Beyond Redemption
by Shadow-Nightfall
Summary: A what if crossover with the Dungeon and Dragons cartoon. Deals with the Black Rider's origins. There is one battle aftermath scene so the story might be between T and M.


Neither the characters from Susan Cooper's Dark is Rising Sequence nor those from the Dungeons and Dragons cartoon belong to me. I got possessed by this idea while working on my current fic that goes under the working title of 'another battle' (if you can think of a name please tell me!)

I'd also like to know what people think of it :)

It is said that the Brightest star ever in the sky was Lucifer before he fell ..

**"Beyond Redemption"**

It is Christmas Day and I stand before a large front door, icy snowflakes falling steadily around me. But neither the snow nor the cold bother me. They are my elements though it wasn't always so.

Reaching out with a black gloved hand, I ring the door bell. I do not have to wait long before a short, round faced man in a dressing gown and slippers answers the door.

He smiles in pleasure when he sees me (I am secretly amused by this as usually people are definitely not pleased to see me) and says, "My dear chap, how very good of you.. come in, do come in. I hand him a small package, one of reasons that I am here – Lyon has certainly grown careless in his dotage.

The man, Roger Stanton, turns his back to me (a dangerous thing to do perhaps) and I follow him beneath his berried holly. Beaming, Stanton introduces me to his wife and family and thanks me for coming (foolish human!). Carefully I repeat the names given and make small talk. "How do you do Mrs Stanton… compliments of the Season to you Max, Gwen.."

A movement further back in the lounge room near a brightly lit Christmas tree attracts my attention and raising my head I see my young enemy. For a brief moment I stare at him in triumphant challenge, the small smile on my lips seeming to say "What will you do Sign-Seeker?" before my enemy's father beckons him over.

I almost laugh internally as the young boy, who is also in a sense as old as the world, transforms from a sweet innocent to a furious inhuman creature. In the same instant he gestures and freezes his family outside of Time. The young idiot shouts at me, "How dare you! At Christmas, on Christmas morning! Get out!" It almost amuses me to see such a one as he in such a state, but being who I am also entitled to respect. I smile coldly at him and tell him in the Old Speech to contain himself and that I am invited. He stares at me, hatred and anger evident in his grey eyes. Then the young fool tries to break into my mind! Naturally, since I am much greater than him, he fails and seems shocked by this. Feeling his thoughts for the first time, I laugh a cold, mirthless laugh. Truly Will Stanton, the Sign-Seeker, is a simpleton. Does he truly think that he can destroy me? Still smiling, I tell him lightly, "Oh no, Will Stanton. That won't do. You cannot use weapons of that kind here." I glance pointedly at one of his sisters and make some cutting remarks.

But I am growing tired of this game. Being one of the Great Lords there are many things that I must attend to, especially during a Rising. Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him who has the temerity to threaten or challenge me. Withering, I tell this little upstart to keep his place. He responds that I am afraid of his Masters and I feel my face flush.

Cursing inwardly, I give him a message to give to his beloved masters. Then, scornfully, I reanimate his family. Stanton introduces his youngest to me and I'm mildly surprised that the air doesn't freeze when Will speaks. Truly, if we can bring the Sign-Seeker to our fold before he is fully grown he would make an excellent and eventually a powerful ally. Plus it would amuse me greatly to see Lyon fail.

Some of my attention is drawn away from the Old One as his sister Mary begs to know what is in the box that I had brought. Then I'm invited for breakfast, much to Will's annoyance. For a moment he forgets himself again, only to be reprimanded by his mother. I almost consider staying simply to annoy the brat but he has given me an excellent opening to leave.

"He sees I'm in a hurry. No, I thank you Mrs Stanton, but I am on the way to spend the day with friends and I must be off." Mary asks where I'm going and I 'admire' her hair, delicately removing a fallen strand. No one, not even Will who is still trying to see if he can kill me by looks alone, sees me keep it. But a hair by itself is not enough and so I comment on the tree and am almost bodily dragged over to it by Mary. Inwardly I laugh at the Sign-Seeker's reaction. I feel his desire to protect his family from the Big Bad Wolf. Had the other Stantons not been there I might have amused myself some.

At the tree I peer meekly (though it takes some effort) at the decorations and the carved initials. They are exactly what I am looking for and I seemly 'absently' twirl a feminine 'M'. A few minutes later I am leaving and not one of them has noticed that I have taken the 'M'.

Outside again, I look at the initial that now has a strand of hair wound around it and smile ferally. Birth signs and a hair from the head are always excellent tokens. Even more so due to the strong feelings that my young enemy has for his family.

Mounting the black stallion, now _my_ black stallion, I summon my family. They envelope me as we ride, some like myself dressed in jet and others is white. After all this time I no longer particularly notice them and at the moment I am remembering. Normally I would never allow this for it is a sign of weakness, but the close knit atmosphere of the Stantons has made me think of other faces and places. So today I allow myself this weakness. And so the memories, so long dismissed and kept at bay, come.. bitter and sweet..

17 years or several millennia before

Another portal disappeared before our eyes. Like countless others before it, we were so close! Sometimes I wonder if we will ever get home. Sometimes I wonder if I really want to. Unlike the others, I have a bit of an incentive to stay. Her name is Varla and she loves me. And I love her.

Before sliding down a rock to a sitting position I cast a quick look at the others. Every one of them, even the ever positive Diana, looks depressed and beat. I wonder if they are thinking similar thoughts to me? Even if I didn't have Varla I think that I am about ready to pack it in. After all these failures maybe it's time to just simply give up and get on with our lives. After all there are a few safe places in the Realm, we could all settle in Khadish with Rahmoud.. at least until we find our feet.

It was then that I realised that I'd unconsciously made my decision even while thinking about it. I _would_ go and see Varla. At this thought some of my fatigue left me and I stood up again. The others stared at me and I gazed fixedly at the ground, lacking the courage to face them.

"Presto?"

"I'm tired of running. I want to settle down." Somehow the words were out of my mouth before I knew it, as if just by looking at the others I was being given not only fear and shame, but courage as well. Somehow I knew Hank at least would understand.

"You want to see Varla again."

"I want to see Varla again."

Then to my surprise Eric stood up and pressed his water bottle into my hand and smiled his cocky grin which was somehow sad. "Well what you waiting for dwerb? Shoo!"

I turned and started walking. I looked back once and that was the very last time that I ever saw them.

On the third day after I had separated from the others, I crested a hill and saw smoke. Varla's village wasn't much further it seemed. It was then that I registered what I was seeing. Thick black clouds of smoke spiralled into a clear blue sky tainting it.

Too much smoke. Too thick and too dark to be just from chimneys. I started to run, dread in my heart. I ran and ran until I thought that my lungs would surely burst. But I still arrived too late.

The dead were everywhere. The first few flies to be attracted to the growing stench buzzing around the corpses. In every direction that I looked, smoking destruction and death met my gaze. A lifeless woman, her rough drab grey dress now dyed crimson, had her arms wrapped protectively around her child as if her frail fresh and bones could shield him from the slaughter. Suddenly dizzy, I have a vague recollection of being on my knees and retching.

The villages had fought though, as well as they could. I could see the slumped body of an orc soldier impaled with a pitchfork near one of the houses. Then everything blurs and I have the impression of running and screaming. Silence is the only answer but still I run, my feet taking control of my body. I don't remember my surroundings, only them. Martha, Gerald..

..and close by, Varla. What she looked like I don't know for it was then that something inside me shattered and I broke down completely, tears blurring my vision and fogging my glasses so that I could hardly see. Then I was somehow kneeing or sitting, holding her limp body to mine. I think that I called her name. Then there is only a blank void and seemly unending digging. The sky had no right to be so blue.

I don't remember much after that day. Years must have passed, but still lost in my intense grief, I barely registered them. I have a very vague idea of solitude and mountains. Curiously, I seem to remember having had a beard.

Then the event that the Dungeonmaster had once warned us about came to pass. He-Whose-Name-Must-Not-Be-Spoken returned.

Standing on a high rock tor, part of some mountain range's foothills, I watched black storm clouds herald his coming. Then He was there, the same as in very old nightmares,

an enormous column of almost blinding greenish light. Terrible and awesome. Thinner columns of crackling lightning dancing endlessly around the greater central one and the noise, an ear-splitting crackling, roaring, growling hiss, made me want to block me ears.

I didn't though, for when I saw Him I felt a strange relief. This being would kill me and finally I'd be with my beloved again!

It was then that I heard Him speak. Even now, millennia later and many of my earliest memories dulled by endless years, I can still remember it and still cannot describe it.

My ears heard the snarling gibberish but somehow my mind registered it as a normal voice.

"Magician, I can give you power and the means to save your beloved. Pledge to serve me and succeed where Venger has failed and I will reward you the ability to travel through Time."

To travel through time.. it is one of the dreams of Earth's human race. If I could time travel I could save Varla. Change the past and so change the future. I fall to me kneels and call him 'Master'. After all it's such an easy choice.

My head is lowered in submission so I don't see the beam that must have been the origin of the greenish light that now surrounds me. I feel a part of His power infuse me and wonder if I will be changed like He changed Venger, but the truth is I no longer care. Saving Varla consumes me.

That day all trace of the boy nicknamed 'Presto' disappeared and I was given another name. A name that in time people would refuse to even pronounce least it bring my attention upon them.

Venger was the first to fall. With my new power it was easy. He must have thought there was something suspicious when I walked up to his current castle, alone and in plain sight. Perhaps he thought I was still that incompetent Magician and that the others were hiding in ambush.

I imagine that he reassessed the situation fast.

As per usual, Venger's castle was guarded by Orcs. I almost invited them to join my side but then I remembered Varla and her village.. Everything went black for a few long moments and when I could see again the twisted and burnt corps of a multitude of orcs greeted my sight and the world smelt of burnt flesh and leather.

Word of my exploit must have spread fast, for when I entered the fortress no one tried to bar my passage. I found him seated in his throne room, a room that had once terrified me. He stood up, perhaps still hoping to imitate me with his impressive height.

He looked haggard, deep sunken eyes even more shadowed in his pale face. Maybe he had caught a glimpse of the future.

"It seems that you have changed Magician.'

I showed him how much. Then I took the Nightmare.

The robes that I wore wouldn't do. They'd always been too big and I wanted to be sure that no-one mistook me for that bumbling wizard and so the next time that I came upon a village I tried to buy some new clothes. The fearful villagers wouldn't sell me any. Probably because of what I was riding and who it had belonged to I suppose. In the end I took what I wanted. A black tunic and pants.

A short way out from the village I forded a stream and glancing down suddenly felt curious to see what I now looked like. And so dismounting, I strode to the river bank and stared into the gentle waters. A stranger stared back. Time and experience had left their mark and now instead of a nerdy boy I saw a hard faced man. It was then that I noticed that the eyes behind the glasses were no longer a gentle hazel but now a cold blue. He-Whose-Name-Must-Not-Be-Spoken _had_ changed my appearance, just not as radically as that of Venger's. For some reason He'd changed my eyes.

Acting on a hunch, I took off my glasses and for the first time in my life I saw clearly without them. Tossing them into the river, I smiled and remounted. The black suited me.

Time passed and I succeed where Venger had failed. Dungeon Master fell and so too did the Realm.

Granted now with immortality and the power to move through time, I went back and tried to save Varla and her village.

I tried and I tried! How I tried! But for every time that I managed to save her from an orc, something else happened. A burning house falling, falling accidentally onto farm implements, a spooked horse..

Eventually I gave up.

The Realm conquered, I set my sights to other places. And remembered Earth. Curiously enough, while Venger could open portals, I could not. Perhaps it had something to do with the power to travel through time. After all, Venger could not. I called to my Master and He came. I remember that He was pleased with my work. It amused Him send me to Earth. However, he did not send me back to the time that the boy Presto had once existed in. It sent me back earlier. Much earlier. And so, with the first humans on Earth, the Dark too was born, or at least finally given form.

It was in that time, my first terrestrial Riding, that I encountered Lyon, the first of the Old Ones. We soon become the bitterest of enemies. During the millennium that followed others joined me in my riding; Holda, Coll, Morra and Celmis and the Dark became a powerful multitude.

(present)

I look back at the Stanton's place with eyes as cold and as hard as my hard. For there I saw a glimpse of what might have been. And for having what I cannot, I hate the Light's Sign-seeker with every fibre of my being.


End file.
